


In Which Merlin Saves Arthur...Again

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: AU-gust 2020 [8]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Modern AU, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: Arthur’s rant broke off as all the men surrounding him dropped to the floor in an instant. He paused. “Is that you, Emrys?” he called. And even when he was being rescued, he sounded conceited, the prat.“Yeah,” Merlin called back. “Hang on a minute.”“Of course,” Arthur said. “In your own time.” So smug.Merlin rolled his eyes. “The least you could do is say thank you.”“Oh thank you,” Arthur said flatly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Pre Merlin/Arthur if you like (which I do)
Series: AU-gust 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870924
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	In Which Merlin Saves Arthur...Again

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 8, 2020 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/625899401398861824/au-gust-8-superheroessuperpowers-au)

It was all Arthur’s fault, really.

If he hadn’t insisted on getting kidnapped _all the time_ , then Merlin wouldn’t have to keep _saving him_ all the time, Merlin complained as he skulked behind a convenient pile of crates.

And it wasn’t even like he was a _good_ hostage or decent leverage. Hadn’t the criminals figured out yet that Uther wasn’t going to pay up, no matter how they threatened Arthur? Merlin would very much like to strangle the man for his callous treatment of his only son, but at least he had to admit the CEO was consistent.

A loud bang broke the stillness of the night and Merlin was halfway to the warehouse door before he registered that it hadn’t been a gunshot. He quickly threw himself to the side and plastered himself against the corrugated steel exterior of the warehouse.

He could hear yelling from inside, and it sounded like one of the goons was being berated for dropping something. Merlin looked around, scanning the side of the building for a window or other point of egress.

There! A window on the upper floor. Normally, Merlin would have had to find a ladder or another convenient pile of crates, but he wasn’t Merlin tonight. He was Emrys, and Emrys had more tricks at his disposal than that.

He’d done this so often, he didn’t even need to mutter the spell anymore. Instead, he turned around and pressed his hands to the rough metal of the warehouse. He felt himself grow lighter and knew his eyes had just flashed gold.

Levitation was easier than true flight, but it was tricky, and Merlin had discovered that it worked best when he had something to brace himself against. The corrugated surface made it a cinch to quickly pull himself up and across to the window.

He peered through the grimy glass and saw Arthur. His golden hair was unmistakable, as was the width of his shoulders. Also he was tied to a chair in the center of the empty floor and surrounded by bad guys with guns. That helped a bit with identification.

Merlin scanned the room quickly, but nothing looked unusual about the scene. Just another straightforward kidnapping then, he concluded. He didn’t really need to get creative about it. The same approach as Bayswater, the Fey Lord, and Mordred eight months ago (not three months ago; Mordred had gotten more interesting since then) should work just fine here.

He muttered under his breath and the rusted lock on the inside of the window obediently clicked open. Arthur seemed to be drawing all their attention - he was making loud noises about how his father wasn’t going to pay and they were all wasting their time (which Merlin agreed about, but he wished Arthur would stop giving the villains motivation to kill him) - so he slid through the window unnoticed.

He did trip on the windowsill for a moment and nearly faceplant on the hard metal catwalk, but Arthur made a loud, cutting remark on the leader’s parentage (Damn you, Arthur! Merlin cursed in his head), and no one seemed to notice.

He adjusted his mask to make sure his features were hidden, and slid smoothly to his feet. He swept his eyes from one corner of the warehouse to the other, but it didn’t look like there were any henchmen hiding in corners, so it should be rather straightforward.

This spell still needed a bit of practice, so Merlin concentrated, closed his eyes for focus, and muttered the memorized phrase under his breath. For an instant, he didn’t think it had worked, then he felt the tell-tale tingle on his tongue.

He opened his eyes again and double-checked the location of all the goons and all their guns. Then he slowly let out a thin stream of breath. It was cold on his lips, and he could feel the chill in the air in front of him. It was much worse for the men on the floor, however, as their guns froze into solid blocks of ice and their body temperatures abruptly dropped to near hypothermic levels. (Not too low. Merlin had practiced. He wanted them incapacitated, not dead. They hadn’t hurt Arthur, after all.)

Arthur’s rant broke off as all the men surrounding him dropped to the floor in an instant. He paused. “Is that you, Emrys?” he called. And even when he was being rescued, he sounded conceited, the prat.

“Yeah,” Merlin called back. “Hang on a minute.” The stairs to the floor of the warehouse were on the other side of the room, so he pulled himself over the railing and started floating to the ground instead.

“Of course,” Arthur said. “In your own time.” So smug.

Merlin rolled his eyes when he lightly touched down. “The least you could do is say thank you,” he told Arthur as he walked over to the chair.

“Oh thank you,” Arthur said flatly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Prat,” Merlin said, standing behind him and studying the ropes that held Arthur in place. Apparently this batch of kidnappers had slightly better than average rope skills. It would be easiest to just cut the knots. He held a hand up over the tangle of rope and concentrated.

“Clotpole,” Arthur countered. And did he have to insist on stealing Merlin’s insults as well?

“Shut up,” Merlin said. “I’m trying to focus on not cutting you.”

Arthur obediently fell silent, but as soon as the ropes were loose, he pulled them off and stood up. “I mean, really,” he drawled. “Your timing could use some work.”

Merlin scowled. “You don’t need to be so ungrateful. I saved you, didn’t I? And not a scratch on you.”

“They had me for _hours_ ,” Arthur complained.

“Like _three_ ,” Merlin shot back.

“Whatever,” Arthur dismissed, which Merlin knew was as much acknowledgement as he was going to get.

“So next week, then?” Merlin asked. He could basically set his calendar by Arthur’s kidnappings at this point.

Arthur gave him a look that said _We both know I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll abide by your fantasy that I don’t know who you are_. “If you like,” he conceded.

“Such a prat,” Merlin said as he brushed past Arthur to the door of the warehouse. It was a little too loud to pass off as muttering under his breath.

“Nice talking to you, too,” Arthur called cheerfully.

Merlin rolled his eyes. _Such_ a prat.


End file.
